


Farewell, My Love

by NikAdair



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Fallen kingdom - Freeform, Melancholy Ending, Mentions of Blood, Prince Kenma, Royalty AU, castle siege, knight akaashi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-09
Updated: 2021-02-09
Packaged: 2021-03-15 11:00:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29312976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NikAdair/pseuds/NikAdair
Summary: He closed his eyes, remembering how they would hold grand balls there. Court musicians at the far end playing music that could be heard as far as the village he’d walked through. Guests from all over would come to dance, to dine, and to drink at the invitation of his father -- of the king.He remembered stealing away from the dances, always unbeknownst to his parents and the suitor that they would always set him up with. Always headed to the knight’s quarters to pull Akaashi from his duties. Always the two of them pulled the courtyard -- secluded and away from the bustle of the rest of the castle. It was their place, one where they could be together and not worry about being caught.
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Kozume Kenma
Kudos: 9





	Farewell, My Love

**Author's Note:**

> Day Two of AkaKen Week! I had originally wanted to go with Wrong Number, but ended up going with Royalty AU.  
> Also, I apologize for the angst in this. My original idea for the other prompt was going to be light hearted and funny, but then this idea formed and I couldn't get it out of my head. I also really tried to describe the surroundings in a way that would make it easier to picture, but I'm not too sure how I did on that front.  
> Anyway, I hope you enjoy!

The road was overgrown, the flora retaking what was once its own. Humble buildings that used to line the road reduced to nothing more than forgotten stones and rotting wood. Colourful signs sunbleached and dust covered. It pained Kenma to see them like this.

His steps crunched and echoed through the abandoned village, the only sound save for the birds overhead. Despite the years that had passed, he could remember exactly where every shop had been. On the edge of town, where he’d entered, the butcher had lived, always loud and boastful about having the best meat around. A few shops down and across the way, the tailor who, without fail, always gave Kenma a hand knitted scarf every winter despite his pleas for her to save it for herself.

Further down, surrounded by now empty flower beds, the floral shop had stood. A beautiful sight in early summer, when everything was in full bloom and filling the air with sweet scents only rivalled by that of the nearby sweets shop. He remembered going there every year with Akaashi, picking out the brightest of wild flowers, just to see him blush.

The memory brought a small smile to his face as he remembered how Akaashi would nod and thank him, trying his best to hide his emotions despite the redness giving him away.

He continued down the road, out of town and down a forested path. One he’d traveled for years alone, and even longer with Akaashi. What was once a perfectly beaten dirt path was now covered in roots and plant life, as though any traces of human life had been wiped from the area.

The path led to crumbling stone walls, the archway having fallen. Ivy and moss climbed the stone as though reaching for the sky. Behind the walls was a large expanse of grass. Without anyone to tend to it, it had grown much taller than Kenma remembered, nearly reaching his waist. Wild flowers grew along the edges of the path, and he reached a hand out, gently ghosting over the top of them.

To the right, a dusty and cracked stone area sat uncovered. Kenma remembered countless days spent there, Akaashi teaching him to sword fight. Remembered countless times of him taking one step too far and ending up on his ass, Akaashi sword pointed at him. Remembered the humoured smirk he gave him before dropping the sword and offering Kenma a hand.

A twinge went through his chest and he looked away, instead focusing on his steps. Or, more realistically, the steps leading into the deteriorating castle in front of him. They were weather worn, much like the walls had been, and weeds poked out of every crack. It made him sad to see what was once a glorious structure reduced to such a pitiful sight.

Inside, the grand hall stretched out in front of him. What was once bright white walls and marble floorings and ascending ceilings was now dirtied and broken. Sometime in the past years, the ceiling had collapsed, the rubble sat in the middle of the room. Sunlight streamed in, catching the ripped remains of banners that had once adorned the walls. They were sunbleached and tatters, loose threads hanging from tears. His family insignia was no longer visible, slashed through and torn apart.

He closed his eyes, remembering how they would hold grand balls there. Court musicians at the far end playing music that could be heard as far as the village he’d walked through. Guests from all over would come to dance, to dine, and to drink at the invitation of his father -- of the king.

He remembered stealing away from the dances, always unbeknownst to his parents and the suitor that they would always set him up with. Always headed to the knight’s quarters to pull Akaashi from his duties. Always the two of them pulled the courtyard -- secluded and away from the bustle of the rest of the castle. It was their place, one where they could be together and not worry about being caught.

But with that memory came another.

\---

It was a ball, not much different than any other they’d had. The usual guests were there -- potential suitors and their royal guards, dukes and duchesses sent on behalf of their royal families. Kenma, however, knew that despite the jovial atmosphere and light music, there was trouble brewing. He’d been in on the meeting with his father earlier that day.

Talk of invasion from one of their neighbouring kingdoms -- Karasuno. Their king had been sending scouts into their land, being caught by guards. Always with the same excuse: “Took a wrong turn and ended up here, that’s all.” Kenma’s father had told the knights to be on high alert, that no Karasuno member was to find their way into their kingdom.

And yet, despite these threats, he had insisted on having a ball. “We must keep up appearances. They mustn’t know that we know they’re true intentions,” his father had said when asked. Kenma hadn’t agreed with it, but knew better than to voice his dissent. His father was stubborn, but he was also a taction. If he thought this was the best move, then Kenma knew he had to trust him.

The night had started out exactly as it should, and as it progressed, Kenma had relaxed, letting himself enjoy it. There was no suitor that night, no need to act “prim and proper” as Akaashi would put it, and so sneaking away was easy.

He walked the familiar path to the knight’s quarters, humming along softly to the music that drifted after him. Akaashi, as usual, was studying by the window. Several books were open, and he was scratching away on parchment. Kenma smiled, softening his tread as he snuck up on him.

“Boo!” he said, wrapping his arms around Akaashi’s shoulders. Akaashi jumped, his quill creating an ugly streak across the page, and Kenma laughed at Akaashi’s groan.

“My prince, how many times must I ask that you refrain from scaring me?” Akaashi said, turning his head just enough to glance up at him.

Kenma hummed, letting go of him and sitting on the table next to him, careful to avoid the parchment and ink well. “About as many times as I need to tell you to call me Kenma,” he teased. He could practically see Akaashi arguing with himself about the practicality of joining in on the teasing, and Kenma laughed at the defeated sigh he gave.

“As you wish,  _ Kenma _ ,” Akaashi said, emphasizing his name.

Despite how often Kenma told him to call him by his name, it was rare that Akaashi ever did, and it always made his face burn. Of course, Akaashi was gracious enough (most days) to not point it out. However, that day was not one of them.

“ _ Kenma _ , are you alright? Your face is bright red,” Akaashi said, smirking up at him.

Kenma made a noise, kicking his knee lightly. “Oh, shut it. And quit saying my name like that.”

“Oh? Then how about I say it like this.” Akaashi’s voice lowered, growing soft yet still holding intensity behind it. “ _ Kenma _ .”

“Akaashi!!” Kenma said, his face burning even more. He buried it in his hands while Akaashi laughed at him.

Cold hands wrapped gently around his wrist, pulling his hands away from his face. “A prince should never hide away from someone. Especially one with the beauty of Adonis,” Akaashi said, his voice still soft.

Kenma shook his head, and Akaashi kissed his palms one after the other. It made something stir in his chest, and he couldn’t help but smile. They sat there a moment longer before Kenma broke the silence. “Come on, enough studying. I want to dance.”

Akaashi laughed, standing and pulling Kenma with him out into the night. They laced their hands together, swinging them gently as they walked. The courtyard wasn’t too far from where they were -- located on the far side of the castle and next to one of the entrances. They took up residence near the pond, the music filtering out of the castle windows towards.

They danced, standing closer than was acceptable of a prince and a knight, talking in hushed voices. Of Akaashi’s training and scouting. Of Kenma’s studies and music lessons. There was the tension of their shared knowledge of the possible invasion, but neither dared touch it. Nights like this, where they could be together without being caught, were too precious to break.

But even their peace didn’t last long.

It had been an hour since they’d gotten to the courtyard when the music cut abruptly, followed by the sounds of screaming and metal striking metal. Akaashi and Kenma looked at each other before dashing towards the castle. As they got closer, they saw smoke pouring out of the windows, flames starting to lick at the night.

It was chaos inside. Several braziers had fallen, and royals were fleeing out the front. Knights in orange and black were battling those in red, and Kenma’s stomach plummeted. He knew those colours. Knew those fighting tactics. Had trained with those who fought like that.

“Kenma! Kenma, where are you?” he heard his father call, crowded behind a wall of red.

“Father!” Kenma called, running into the burning hall, only to be caught by Akaashi.

“Run, Kenma! Get out of here! Akaashi, keep him safe!” his father yelled. Kenma tried to run towards him, but burning wood fell from above, cutting him off.

“Come on!” Akaashi said, pulling him away from the castle. Everything in him told him to stay, to get to his father, but he knew it was a fool’s errand. There were far too many Karasuno knights, and everything was burning.

Instead, he let Akaashi pull him away, through the courtyard, and into the forest behind the castle. It was dark, and they tripped over roots and rocks. Their path was dotted with white light where the moon could break through the foliage, but even that was few and far between.

Behind them, Kenma could hear twigs snapping and branches breaking. Someone had followed them from the castle. His heart rate picked up, and they ran faster. He could see a break in the trees ahead, and heard the sound of running water.

Akaashi pulled them to a stop, and Kenma looked at him. There was something in his eyes that Kenma couldn’t place, but knew he didn’t like. “Keep going, Kenma. Follow the river. Keep running and don’t stop. I’ll follow soon.”

“No, I’m not leaving you,” Kenma said, tightening his grip on Akaashi’s hand.

“You must. For your father’s sake, you must.”

“Akaashi, no--”

“Kenma! This isn’t up for discussion!” Akaashi half yelled. “You need to stay safe. I’ll be along soon. Please.”

Kenma didn’t want to leave him. Had the feeling that this would be the last time he saw him. But he could see tears in Akaashi’s eyes, and it made him nod.

“Okay,” he said with a nod.

Akaashi squeezed his hand and kissed him softly. “I love you, Kenma.” Kenma opened his mouth to say it back, but there was a crash far too close to them, and Akaashi pushed him, pulling his sword. “Go, Kenma! Run, and don’t stop!”

Kenma watched as orange appeared, Akaashi striking down, turning as the blow was blocked. He ran and ran, stumbling over roots and rocks, slipping in mud and water. He ran until he couldn’t hear their fighting anymore. Ran until the water grew cold. Ran until his chest burned and he could no longer breathe.

He hid away in a hollow in the tree, chest heaving. Mud was caked to his shoes and pants, weighing his legs down. He leaned his head back, listening to the water rushing by. It drowned out any other sounds that may have followed, but something in him knew that he was safe there.

He waited and waited, and soon the sky lightened with the rising sun. Akaashi was nowhere in sight. Kenma’s legs protested as he got up, pushing away from the tree and stepping in the morning haze. The chill from the water made him shiver, but he knew he had to keep going.

Something felt wrong. The world seemed muted -- more muted than it should be. Maybe it was the smoke that filtered through the air from the castle. Maybe it was the lack of bird song that often accompanied his waking.

At least, that’s what he kept telling himself. That all came crashing down when he got to the forest opening.

Akaashi was sitting against one of the trees, his sword left forgotten at his side. One hand wrapped his stomach, the other laying limp in his lap. If it hadn’t been for the slight movement of his chest, Kenma would’ve thought he was--

He pushed that thought away. This was Akaashi he was talking about, he’d be okay. He had to be. Kenma moved slowly up the hill, not sure if it was safe. It wasn’t until he saw the Karasuno knight lying several feet away, unmoving, that he knew it was safe to run to Akaashi.

And run he did. Akaashi weakly looked up at him as he dropped to his knees, eyes scanning over him. There was blood -- too much blood -- pooling around him, as well as several shallow cuts on his arms and face.

“Kenma, I thought I told you that I’d be there soon,” Akaashi said, his voice just as weak as his movements.

“Don’t talk, okay? Save your strength. We need to get you to a healer,” Kenma said, trying to keep his voice even despite the rising panic in his chest.

Akaashi coughed and groaned, clutching his stomach as more blood seeped between his fingers. Kenma took off his tunic -- shivering as the cold morning air quickly found its way under his undershirt -- and started tearing it into strips.

“My prince, stop. You’re going to catch your death in this cold,” Akaashi said, trying to stop him. His hand landed limply on Kenma’s before slipping. Kenma caught, holding it tight.

“Akaashi, please, I need to stop the bleeding,” he said, voice cracking.

Akaashi shook his head, smiling weakly at him. “Kenma, protecting you was the biggest honour I could’ve been given.” Kenma shook his head, tears starting to pour down his face. “But falling in love with you, that was the best thing that could’ve ever happened.”

“Akaashi--”

“Being able to spend all those years by your side, stealing away to the courtyard, training you to sword fight, even just going to the village, I wouldn’t trade any of it.” Akaashi tried to squeeze Kenma’s hand, but he didn’t have the strength to. Instead, he tugged Kenma’s hand towards him. “You are the brightest star in my life, and I cherished every minute I had with you.”

“Akaashi, please--” Kenma’s voice broke, and a sob ripped out of his chest. “You’re going to be okay, I’m going to make sure of it.”

Akaashi shook his head again. “I love you Kenma, more than I have loved anyone else. Thank you for giving me your heart.” He pulled Kenma’s hand towards his lips and kissed it. They were cold, and Kenma’s thoughts froze.

“I love you, too, Akaashi,” Kenma cried, watching Akaashi’s eyes close. He knew there wasn’t any time. That they were too far from any healers. That he didn’t have the strength to carry him.

It was a moment later when Akaashi’s hand grew limp, letting go of Kenma’s. His chest had stopped moving, and without having to check, Kenma knew he was gone. More sobs ripped from him, and he leaned forward, collapsing in on himself as his heart shattered.

\---

Kenma opened his eyes, tears slipping down his cheeks. Despite the years that have passed, losing Akaashi was still a fresh wound. His heart felt just as broken as it had been back then, and he could still hear the rasp in his voice as Akaashi said he loved him.

He wiped his face, taking a steadying breath. He reached behind him and rummaged through his bag, fingers wrapping around cold metal. He pulled out the object -- his old crown, now tarnished and dented. The last remaining jewels glimmered dimly in the sunlight, the last reminders of a time forgotten.

Picking his way through the rubble, he walked to where the thrones had once stood. Around him, torn and tattered banners fluttered in the wind. His family’s insignia, once a proud symbol, was shredded and burned along with the rest of his family.

Kenma knelt down, placing the crown on dust covered stone. “Farewell to the kingdom,” he said as he stood.

He walked out of the castle, back down the overgrown path and through the remnants of the village. Something warm trailed across his cheek, and he felt himself smile ever so slightly.

“Farewell, my love.”


End file.
